


Getting to Know You

by laulan



Series: 30-300 [1]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-24 09:13:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/632785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laulan/pseuds/laulan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve learns something new about Tony. (Sequel/companion piece is <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/633610">here</a>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting to Know You

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a project where I wrote one 300-word ficlet for each day in September, and is actually pre-relationship fic. Warnings for mentions of war, gun and knife violence.

A lot of things have changed since he hit the ice, Steve thinks, but _this_ hasn’t changed at all.

He raises his head to the sky, letting the moonlight scrape down over his nerves. He wants to run just to feel the shape of the wind on his face--he sits instead, savoring the light. His hackles rise when he sees another wolf trot out from the trees. He growls a warning, then notices the bright smudge of blue: a caught star glowing in the other wolf’s chest.

_Tony?_ he thinks.

-

Tony’s in the kitchen the next morning, eating breakfast. For a second Steve hovers, wondering what he’ll say. Then Tony looks up and says, “Captain Wolf,” all smirky and cheerful, and Steve just rolls his eyes instead, tension fading.

-

“How does the--?” Steve taps his own chest.

Tony’s mouth quirks. “Took a few tries to get it shifting right,” is all he says.

“Was it, uh, before or after? Your bite?”

“Oh, before, way before.” Tony chews a waffle meditatively while Steve holds his breath. “I was fifteen.”

“You were _fifteen_?”

Tony grins. “Stupid, right? Puberty really sucked ass.”

Steve thinks of his own first change: a wood somewhere, France, maybe, war still breathing heavy on him and his men. They waited in the trees, guns ready. There’s no way to tell if a person will go feral until the first change, and Steve--well, there were enough casualties already. He trusted his men.

He remembers the touch of the moon, heavy as a hand on his neck, and the first hot shock of pain spearing through him. A hundred bullets, a thousand knives. The only thing that compared was the serum.

He looks at Tony and thinks, _Fifteen._

There’s a lot about this man he still doesn’t know.


End file.
